


The Wedding Planner by iiiieyes

by iiiionly (Tanis)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 07:11:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12127236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanis/pseuds/iiiionly
Summary: This is an A/U Sam/Pete ship story (though about six lines in the story make is slash as well) featuring Daniel in the role of instigator, Teal’c as the Wedding Planner and Jack appearing about as much as he did in Season 8. It began life as a comedy of sorts, at least General O’Neill thought so, then took a bit of a poignant turn. But that’s the extent of my true confessions. If you want to know what happens, you will have to read on.





	The Wedding Planner by iiiieyes

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from the AlphaGate

  
The Wedding Planner by iiiieyes

 

  
[The Wedding Planner](http://www.thealphagate.com/viewstory.php?sid=3703) by [iiiieyes](http://www.thealphagate.com/viewuser.php?uid=277)  


  
Summary: This is an A/U Sam/Pete ship story (though about six lines in the story make is slash as well) featuring Daniel in the role of instigator, Teal’c as the Wedding Planner and Jack appearing about as much as he did in Season 8. It began life as a comedy of sorts, at least General O’Neill thought so, then took a bit of a poignant turn. But that’s the extent of my true confessions. If you want to know what happens, you will have to read on.  
Categories: [Jack/Daniel](http://www.thealphagate.com/browse.php?type=categories&catid=6), [Sam/Pete](http://www.thealphagate.com/browse.php?type=categories&catid=39) Characters:  Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill, Jacob Carter, Janet Fraiser, Other, Samantha Carter, Teal'c  
Genres:  Drama, Humor, Romance, Team  
Warnings:  None  
Challenges:  
Series: None  
Chapters:  1 Completed: Yes  
Word count: 13198 Read: 2374  
Published: 04 Sep 2008 Updated: 04 Sep 2008 

The Wedding Planner by iiiieyes

  
****

The Wedding Planner

 

“Hey, Sam, am I interrupting?” Dr. Daniel Jackson wandered into the astrophysicist’s lab on one of his rare breaks, sipping steaming coffee from a mug that read _Archeologists do it in the Dirt_. “What ya doing?”

“Hey.” Sam glanced over her shoulder. “What are you doing?” she countered, debating the wisdom of leaving the magazine open on her counter or doing the telltale closing and shoving in a drawer thing. Either way he was bound to notice. Daniel always noticed. She swiveled around as he came up behind her. “You bringing that for me?”

“No,” the archeologist responded, restraining a sigh as visions of his coffee disappearing danced before his aching eyes. “But you can have it if you want it. I won’t tell Pete we’ve been swapping germs.”

Sam relieved him of the mug, if only to give him a hard time. “Ummm.” She sipped blissfully, eyeing her teammate over the rim. “Why is it your coffee is always so much better than anywhere else on base? And when was the last time you slept?”

“Uh, let’s see – it comes from a coffee grinder instead of a can?” Ignoring her second question, Daniel planted his elbows beside her as Sam turned back to the counter. “Have you and Pete set a date?” he asked, tilting his head to look at the magazine she’d been thumbing through.

“No. We’ve decided to get married at the Justice of the Peace though.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” The single word held a wealth of meaning.

Sam closed the _Bride Magazine_ she’d been idly flipping through, thankful it was Dr. Jackson who’d caught her and not General O’Neill. “A wedding seems like a total waste of money. Pete’s already been through one train wreck, so he’s perfectly fine with a JP ceremony.”

“Of course he is, he’s a man.” Daniel, however, wasn’t about to let her slide the issue into a drawer. “Are you okay with it?” He pulled the magazine out from under her hand and let it fall open, inspecting the two pages Sam had been staring at dreamily. “This one?” He tapped a picture of a low-cut dress with a fitted lace empire bodice that flared from the hips into a swirl of frothy silk and satin.

“Umm, pretty isn’t it?” Sam sighed.

“You’d look awesome in it,” Daniel replied simply, thumbing down the top of the page before turning to the next . . . and the next . . . and the next, pointing out several Sam would look equally stunning in as he went. “You know, you could still wear a gown even if you end up at the Justice of the Peace.”

“What’s the point? We’ve agreed to wear our Class A’s.”

Daniel glanced at her curiously. “Would you like to have a wedding?”

Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter, theoretical astrophysicist, sighed again. “I don’t know the first thing about weddings, Daniel. It’s such a girlie-girl thing. You know me, am I the wedding type?”

Daniel shrugged. “Doesn’t every girl dream about a wedding? If you and Pete aren’t comfortable with a big, grand affair, do something small.”

“We’ve talked about maybe having a reception.”

“Then you definitely need a dress. And frankly, I think you should have a wedding. This is a big step. Even though we were already married according to Abydonian law, Sha’re and I formalized our union in front of the rest of the village.” Daniel turned down the tops of several more pages. “I don’t know, Sam, I think there’s something magical about a wedding. Not that a wedding will keep you together . . . it’s just, you know, a public declaration. A sharing of your joy in coming together. I think you ought to consider it.”

“Really? You think?” Sighing again, Sam flicked her fingers at the magazine. “I don’t know. I don’t think either of us are the wedding type.”

Pete had seemed relieved when Sam had dismissed the whole nuptial thing as more trouble than it was worth. After all, they weren’t teenagers in the first throes of passion, needing to declare their undying devotion for each other in front of witnesses. They were mature adults, mutually agreeing to a formal union rather than just living together.

“What we should really do here is enlist Teal’c. In fact, I bet he’d make a terrific coordinator.”

“Oh, right, funny man!” Sam rolled her eyes. “Teal’c, the Wedding Planner?” She laughed outright, her quasi-depression instantly dispelled.

“Hey, I think I’m on to something. You know he could to it.”

“Get serious. Teal’c knows even less about weddings than I do.”

“Ahhh, but Teal’c has the time and he navigates the Internet like a pro. Think about it. You could get married in the chapel over at Petersen, or for that matter, since Pete knows – get married in the Gate room. ‘Course, you won’t be able to show anyone your pictures. Or here’s a thought.” Daniel flashed a sideways grin as he came to the last page in the magazine and flipped back to the front. “Get married off-world; that’d be a hoot! And a story to tell you grandkids besides.”

“Uh, you do realize before you get grandkids, you have to have children.”

“What? Pete doesn’t want kids?”

“Well, uhmmm, actually we haven’t gotten around to discussing that aspect . . .” Sam trailed off.

“So?” Daniel tapped a picture of an avant-garde gown on one of the pages he’d thumbed down. “This would be perfect for you. You’ve got the height and the figure to carry it off with panache. Do you want kids?”

Sam glanced over to be sure she’d heard him correctly. He’d slid it in so causally he might have been pointing out another dress.

She cleared her throat. “Well, yes, of course. Down the road somewhere. I’d have to give up SG-1 though.”

“Why?”

“Because . . .” Sam began, then stopped. “The Air Force would never let me anyway.”

“They can’t discriminate on that basis.”

“Don’t be naïve, Daniel. Of course they can.”

“So get a nanny. My parents didn’t stop being archeologists because they suddenly had a kid.”

“I think there’s a slight difference between going to a foreign country to dig in the dirt and going off-world to places no one knows about, doing who knows what with guns and rocket launchers and grenades.”

“Annhhhh,” Daniel shrugged. “Not so much.”

“Really? You think?” Sam repeated, still trying to wrap her head around Teal’c, _The Wedding Planner_ , let alone children.

“Well, I’m sure there’d have to be some compromises; I don’t see you hauling a baby around along with your backpack, although I suppose you could get one of those snuggly things and have the kid on the front. But come on, Sam, if Jack can be a general, surely you can be a mother.”

“See, there’s the flaw in your plan, the General is no longer a member of SG-1,” Sam replied dejectedly.

“Sure he is. Jack will always be a member of SG-1; he doesn’t get to go out with us as often as he’d like to, but we haven’t replaced him.”

“Jack doesn’t get to do what?” General O’Neill strolled into the lab, hands thrust in the pockets of his BDUs. “I was just down at your office, Daniel, looking for the two of you.” He picked up the half-empty coffee cup, sniffed it, and took a swallow. “Ya know, I’m thinking about ordering you to set up your coffee maker in my office.” Jack drained the mug and thumped it back down on the counter. “Where’s Teal’c?”

“In the gym. You want all of us, sir?” Sam inquired, closing the magazine and sliding it as subtly as possible under a stack of printouts.

“No, just wondering what you guys were up to. Anything interesting?”

“Well, that depends, sir. I have the latest readings from the UAV we launched yesterday, on P8X-949. The planet—“

The General’s hand went up. “Aht! I’m sure I’ll hear all about it at the briefing, Carter. What is it Jack doesn’t get to do anymore?” He crossed his elbows on the counter and leaned into their space.

Daniel rolled his eyes. Jack was bored and looking for entertainment; which likely meant he was facing a ton of paperwork. The remainder of SG-1 had been on his case constantly about getting a full-time assistant, something he’d never gotten around to doing since the COC had landed him with a ringer the very first day of his command.

“I just said you aren’t able to come out with us as much as you’d like anymore.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Sam very pointedly did not look at Daniel, hoping he would take the hint. The General would be all over them like fleas on a dog if they so much as exchanged a glance and she had no desire for him to learn about this particular itch just yet.

Daniel covered it nicely. “We’re missing you; hanging out with you. You hardly ever come down to my office anymore and when we come hang out in yours, you kick us out.”

Jack sighed. “I’ve got important stuff to do now.”

“Like reviews? Again?”

“Yes, dammit! Didn’t we just do those last month?”

“Uhm, it was six months ago, Jack. Remember? You made Teal’c and me write all those nice things about Sam and her new command?”

“Oh. That was six months ago?”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Daniel quipped.

“Well, at least somebody’s having fun,” Jack commented, looking at them interestedly. He snagged a stool with his foot, pulled it over and sat down, obviously intent on staying for a while.

“Why won’t you get a new assistant?”

“What were you guys talking about when I walked in?”

“You heard us, we were talking about you,” Daniel replied, fixing the General with a gimlet eye. “So stop prying, or we’ll go off base to talk about you. Hammond never stalked us.”

“Daniel?” Sam inquired in an undertone. “What are you doing?”

Daniel glanced at her innocently. “Well, he didn’t. We’re entitled to private conversations.”

“So, Carter, you and Pete set a date yet?” Jack changed the subject without blinking an eye, his lips didn’t even twitch, but he had to work hard at it. You didn’t make General without learning a thing or two about keeping on top of your command.

Sam glanced betrayingly at Daniel, who continued to stare at Jack.

“No, they haven’t,” Daniel answered, still not looking at Sam. “Pete wants a JP ceremony . . ."

“Smart man,” Jack murmured.

“. . . and Sam thinks she’d like to have a wedding. I’ve been trying to talk her into letting Teal’c be her wedding coordinator.”

“What?” A series of snapshots of the Jaffa flashed like a slideshow through Jack’s mind. Teal’c dressed as a waiter on a television set they’d tracked a real live alien to; Teal’c, on that same trip, demanding more quarters for the vibrating bed in their hotel room; Teal’c sporting cowboy hat and boots, looking like an out-of-work actor from an old B movie; Teal’c wearing full Serpent Guard armor, complete with glowing eyes.

But Teal’c as a wedding coordinator?

“No way,” Jack dissed scornfully.

“Care to make a little side bet on it?” Daniel offered. “Let me remind you, just so you don’t come back later whining about getting suckered, we’re talking about a man who watches Oprah every afternoon he’s on-world and Tivo’s it when he’s not.”

Okay, he had forgotten that, but he still didn’t think the Jaffa warrior would go for something sissy like planning a wedding. Jack supposed Carter was entitled to some sissy feelings. After all, she was a girl, but this was carrying it a little too far.

Enlisting Teal’c as a wedding planner?

“It was my idea,” Daniel told him uncompromisingly. “And if Teal’c wants to do it, you need to leave him alone. He’d be a real asset to Sam in helping to plan. And – you need to let her do this while we’re here on base during our down time. There’s only so much you can accomplish on Saturdays, you know.”

“Anything else, General Jackson?”

“We’ll let you know as things come up.”

“Sir,” Carter began, blanching the color of a peeled almond.

“No need to apologize, Carter.” Jack rose from his stool. “I’m considering the source. Listen, you want to have a wedding, you go for it. You want Teal’c to coordinate? By all means, if he’s willing, use him and abuse him. But be sure you drag Daniel into all of this since he’s the one that came up with the idea in the first place.”

“Now wait a minute . . .” Daniel sputtered.

“Yes, sir.” Sam punched her pseudo-sibling in the ribs with a discreet elbow. “Absolutely, sir.”

“And Carter?” The General glanced over his shoulder as he smacked the doorframe on his way out.

“Sir?”

“We wanna be your bridesmaids. Just don’t put us in pink. Dr. Jackson, you’re finished for the day. If the sign-out desk doesn’t report your departure within the next half hour, I will personally be escorting you to the surface.”

“Hey!” Daniel balked, “I can’t leave yet!”

“Yes, you can and you will.”

Daniel matched one of Sam’s quasi-depressed sighs, but winked mischievously as the sound of Jack’s footsteps faded away. “He was bound to find out sooner or later, this way we have his blessing. Come on, let’s go find Teal’c.” He straightened and pushed off the counter, looking longingly at his empty coffee mug. Not that he needed it anymore. Jack didn’t make empty threats.

Sam started turning off various humming, beeping, whirring, whining machines, so the ambient noise in her lab dropped by ten decibels. “I need to run this by Pete first.”

“Pete’s madly in love. He’ll do whatever you tell him.”

“That’s hardly a good basis for beginning a marriage.”

”Yeah, you’re probably right. So let’s ask Teal’c, and then you can discuss it with Pete.”

“But I don’t want to hurt Teal’c’s feelings if he says yes and Pete says no.”

“Trust me on this; Pete’s going to say ‘Just tell me where to be’.”

“But . . .” She was rapidly running out of arguments in the face of Daniel’s undaunted persistence.

“Sam, be honest. You’d really like to have a wedding, wouldn’t you?”

“All right, if I’m totally honest with myself, yes. I always dreamed about having a wedding when I got married.”

“Good, let’s go talk to Teal’c.”

“Alright, but then we’re going home.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

* * *

Teal’c had been a godsend. She’d come into work the morning after and found Daniel and Teal’c setting up a second computer station in her lab. At breakfast, Teal’c had handed her an entire legal pad filled with ideas, suggestions and lists.

They’d been scheduled for a meet and greet the next day, which Daniel strolled in to announce, late in the afternoon, had been handed off to another team, leaving them free for another two days.

She’d broached the subject with Pete that night over hors d'oeuvres and the most expensive wine on the menu at the first exclusive restaurant she could book on short notice, Blue Vervain.

Pete the cop had been instantly on the alert, but she’d mellowed him with that bottle of Nickel&Nickel Truchard, followed up with Russian egg wraps and Thai-style shrimp ceviche.

When she’d finally worked up the courage to ask, he’d been so relieved he’d gone all goofy on her. Daniel, as usual, had called it perfectly. Pete’s ultimate response had been, “Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

Now Teal’c was insisting D-day had arrived. She would have to choose a dress before they could go ahead. The gown would be the foundation of the bridal party; it would affect the choice of floral arrangements, the style of clothing the remainder of the wedding party would wear, etc.

She was not expecting, or even hoping for success. Clothes for Sam were functional. The little black number she’d originally knocked Pete’s socks off with had been a Janet-driven purchase, from one of the infrequent trips she’d allowed herself to be dragged along on to quiet both Janet and Cassie’s continual efforts to include her in their bizarre shopping rituals. Cassie had been mad to come on this trip, but a last minute scheduling change at the Academy had nixed that. Sam would gladly have cancelled; her wedding planner, however, refused to let her back out. So in accordance with the General's orders, she'd dragged Daniel along instead.

Flanked by the Jaffa and the archeologist, she strode purposefully across the parking lot, determination straightening her spine even as panic squeezed her bladder.

 

Conquering the Goa’uld had been easier and much more satisfying, Sam thought, as Daniel opened the shop door and ushered them into the depths of hell.

A bell tinkled merrily over their heads as the trio stepped over the threshold, pausing instinctively on the landing to adjust to the low lighting.

Daniel flicked off his clip-ons, glancing appreciatively around the beautifully rendered showcases. Beside him, he heard Sam suck in her breath apprehensively. “Don’t panic,” he murmured, “Remember, they’re only dresses.”

It wasn’t a large shop, but you couldn’t turn your head without being assaulted by visions of bridal gowns, wedding parties and wedding paraphernalia of every size and shape imaginable, all in shades of white, cream, and bone. Every nook and cranny boasted not-to-be-missed _brides_ from the average to the extraordinary.

In one sweeping glance, Sam registered a svelte gown fit for a mermaid, decorated with tiny, white dangling shells sewn into a gossamer tulle overlay that sparkled with iridescence; a cream-colored, off-the-shoulder gown layered from bodice to hem with yards and yards of flounces, with a lace mantilla veil draped over the shoulder of the dressmaker’s dummy; a Western attire ensemble with a cowboy hat sporting a lace veil and hand-tooled, white leather boots; a Marie Antoinette-style gown, the fitted bodice dripping Venetian lace, with a pannier skirt and a loopable train that had to be at least six feet long; and a casually elegant little antique white number that, if dyed black, could turn up without blushing at any affair involving cocktails. And those were just the visible nooks and crannies. She grabbed Daniel’s elbow and closed her eyes, dizzy with the vastness of choices.

Daniel patted her hand absently, murmuring vague reassurances as he, too, tried to quantify the number of choices to be had.

In the meantime, Teal’c adjusted the brim of his black-felt fedora, glanced over the goggling group of women, and inquired coolly, “Which of you is Theadorakerrigan?”

“Oh.”

Disappointment dimmed three bright smiles.

“She just stepped out for a moment.”

“Colonel Carter has a 3:00 o’clock appointment. Will Theodorakerrigan be back in time for that appointment?”

“Oh, absolutely, Thea’s never late. Would you like to take a seat in our waiting area?”

“Can we get you refreshments? Coffee? Tea?”

The unconscious sighs had Sam smiling despite her nerves. “What should we do? Just wait?” She half shrugged and sidled closer to Daniel, slipping a hand under his elbow.

He drew it in closer to his body, reeling Sam in too. “You want to look around while we wait?”

“I don’t know. It’s a little . . . overwhelming. What do you think, Teal’c?”

“Theodorakerrigan assured me she would have a selection of gowns to match your specifications ready for us, Samantha. However, if you wish to browse until she arrives, perhaps you may find something that pleases you more.”

“Is it okay if we look around?” Daniel asked. ‘Who knows, we might come up with other ideas.”

“Of course, feel free to wander.”

The three women converged behind the counter, though they individually busied themselves at different tasks. This was an exclusive shop, catering to a wealthy clientele, and the sales assistants knew their place. That didn’t keep them from stretching their ears to hear everything they could of the low-voiced conversations.

“Do you think the General will agree to it?”

“It was his idea, Sam. He can’t very well say no after instigating it. But what’s Pete going to say?” Daniel moved them off the landing and down the two steps into the shop itself, heading for the section with the mermaid gown.

Teal’c followed a step behind.

Hidden from the envious eyes of the assistants, Sam let go of her lifeline and began to peruse the gowns. She shrugged again as she fingered the heavy satin of a floor-length gown with a severe A-line cut. “You guys are my best friends. The only other person I’d want to stand up with me would be . . . Janet.” The name still brought the sting of tears and Sam swiped at the betraying moisture on her cheek. “Sorry, sorry.”

Daniel, two dresses down, moved back to drape a companionable arm over her shoulders. "Don't be." He gave her a quick squeeze. “How about a tribute in the program; maybe something on the platform? A bouquet in her place? We’ll do something to let her know she’s still part of us.”

“I’d like that.”

“So what’s Pete going to say when you tell him your bridesmaids are mostly men?” Daniel repeated, wandering a few paces further along the row of dresses.

“I don’t mind if he asks his women friends to stand up for him.”

“Sam,” the archeologist chided gently. “Does Pete have women friends like you have men friends?”

“Probably not.” Sam caught up with him again.

“So, how do you think he’s going to feel?”

“I don’t know. But frankly, it’s not his choice, and if he doesn’t understand how I feel about the three of you, then there’s really no point in going through with this, is there?” She pulled an antique-white, mandarin-collared dress off the rack and held it up, glancing at both Daniel and Teal’c. “Because my feelings for you are never going to change. Ever.” She smacked a kiss on Daniel’s cheek, hung up the dress, and spun to stand on tiptoe to hug and kiss Teal’c as well. “I will love you until the day I die.”

The shop bell tinkled again, admitting a small, hurrying figure in turquoise silk slacks and a flowing purple top. “Christy, is my 3:00 o’clock here yet? I need to . . . Oh, you are here already!” She advanced on the trio with a wide smile and both hands outstretched. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Colonel Carter. May I call you Samantha? I’m Theodora Kerrigan, but everyone calls me Thea or just Tee.”

“Indeed,” Teal’c intoned, causing Sam to giggle uncharacteristically and Daniel to grin broadly. “You are not late, Theodorakerrigan, we were slightly early.”

“What is it?” Thea glanced inquisitively from one grinning face to the other.

Daniel glanced at Sam, then Teal’c. “Sorry, an inside joke. Our boss calls Teal’c, T. The uhmmm . . . comparison . . .” The linguist’s hands fluttered expressively. “Anyway,” he shrugged, “we’re here a little early.”

“Ahhhh.” The diminutive fairy princess smiled. “It is amusing we would share the same nickname.”

The 6’4” Jaffa inclined his head gracefully. “It seems we have something in common, Theodorakerrigan. If you have other responsibilities you are required to care for before you begin with us, please feel free to do so.”

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine. I just wanted to freshen my face.” She patted her own flushed cheek. “It’s a girl thing. I believe I spoke with you, Mr. Teal’c.” The name rolled off her tongue as though she used it every day. “On the phone.”

She was such a tiny thing, Teal’c could practically have held her in his cupped hands, Daniel thought. She reminded him of the fairies sleeping curled in and around the capital letters in ancient Celtic manuscripts.

“It is just Teal’c.”

“Oh, then you must call me Thea, or Tee.”

“And this is Dr. Daniel Jackson.” Sam drew him forward.

Thea, however, was staring up at Teal’c. “I’m sorry, for a moment you reminded me of someone I knew back home.” She shook her head. “But that’s impossible.” She switched her gaze to Daniel, smiling. “Dr. Jackson,” she greeted, still fluttery. “Would you all like to come this way? I have some dresses set up in the changing area. If you like any of them, Samantha, perhaps you’d care to try them on. Is either of you gentlemen the groom?”

“No,” they both declaimed hastily, neither of them offering any further data on the status of their relationship to the bride.

Sam was again too nervous to add anything more.

This really was too girly-girl for her peace of mind. She was far more comfortable in her fatigues and combat boots, studying some alien gizmo in her lab, than standing here amid all the finery of wedding paraphernalia.

Daniel and Teal’c were ushered to a pair of wingback chairs separated by a small, spindly-legged table, and offered coffee or champagne.

Daniel accepted coffee; Teal’c declined both.

Directly in front of the chairs was a wide, carpeted dais, two feet high by five feet wide. Three broad, shallow steps fronted the platform that housed a floor-to-ceiling three-way mirror. To the right of the dais was the dressing room, to the left, a series of dressmaker’s dummies had been artfully arranged to highlight the unique features of the dresses they modeled.

Each gown had been accessorized with various wedding accoutrements - a hat or veil, one had a pair of gloves, another was ornamented with a glittering hand-net of diamonds, each one had footwear of some kind, though all were different. Two had bouquets, while another had white silk roses strewn across the train as though Mother Nature, not in her Oma Desala incarnation, had invoked her bountiful blessings on the dress.

The boys each had a favorite.

The moment she set eyes on it, Sam knew which one she would pick. An unusual bout of female intuition had her deliberately saving it for last, though she listened with a grin each time Daniel and Teal’c good-naturedly argued the relative merits of the gowns she modeled for them.

There was no arguing when she swept out onto the dais in the last gown. Both men sucked in their breath and held it, gazing at her with glazed eyes.

“Holy Hannah, Sam,” Daniel breathed in awe when he could actually gather enough saliva to speak again, and intentionally usurping Sam’s pejorative. “It was made for you.”

“Indeed, Samantha, the gown suits you to a tee,” Teal’c agreed solemnly.

“It’s perfect,” Thea added delightedly. “I believe that dress was created just for you, Samantha.”

“Only Teal’c calls me Samantha,” she murmured, turning to make sure the enchanted mirror hadn’t turned her back into a frog - or a theoretical astrophysicist. “I’m Sam to everyone else.”

The dress was made of glistening white satin that molded her tall, lithe figure as though she wore water, fitting like a body-glove one second, then settling into flowing lines of perfection the moment she was still.

An empire waist showcased the hand-appliquéd décolletage rimmed with tiny seed pearls, and her generous bust, while the sheer back came up to form a high, open collar that framed her lovely neck to perfection. More minute pearl buttons marched in a perfectly straight column down the back of the dress, snugging the shimmering fabric to her curves as if it indeed had been made to order for one slightly dazed Air Force colonel.

Thea had paired the dress with a picturesque, wide-brimmed hat courting a wisp of veil, and elbow-length gloves in the same fabric as the sleeveless dress.

Sam had donned both and looked as though she’d stepped out of another era.

“You look stunning, Sam.” Daniel carefully set his delicate china coffee cup on the table and rose to go stand behind her. “Pete’s not going to know what hit him,” he informed their joint reflection. “You are going to do the traditional thing, aren’t you? And not let him see you until you come down the aisle?”

“I hadn’t given it a thought,” Sam replied honestly.

“You ought to.”

“I believe Danieljackson is correct, Samantha.” Teal’c rose and moved to flank her on the other side, hands clasped behind his back.

Behind them, Thea scooted out of view and motioned her associates to come and see.

“Have you been able to get in touch with Jacob?” Daniel asked, trading glances with Teal’c in the mirror as he spoke to Sam.

Both men smiled at the appreciative ooo’s and ahhh’s as Thea busied herself behind them, twitching at the beautifully draped train flowing down the shallow steps.

“He’s going to be there.”

“Good. What about Mark?”

“Yes. Casey and the kids are coming, too. Teal’c, can we work Joanna and Jules into the mix somehow?”

“Of course. Your young nephew might enjoy being one of the ushers and perhaps your niece could oversee the guest book and present programs to the guests.”

Sam met the dark gaze in the mirror. “You know I could never have done this without you?”

Teal’c inclined his head. “That is a patently false statement, Samantha. But I have gained immense pleasure from the process. I am honored by your willingness to permit me to contribute.”

“It is not a false statement at all and if you really mean it, you’d best thank Daniel,” Sam replied, long accustomed to the Jaffa’s formal style of speech. “He’s the one who got us into this whole mess.” Smirking, she gathered up the train and headed back to the dressing room with Thea in attendance to undo all those tiny buttons.

Teal’c only raised that infamous eyebrow and intoned with just a hint of a smile, “Then I must extend my gratitude to you as well, Danieljackson. I have always believed you to be most perceptive where your friends are concerned.”

“You may not thank me when the entire base starts demanding your services as a wedding planner.” Daniel pulled his cell out of his back pocket. ”I need to make a phone call. Back in a sec, okay?” Flipping it open, he punched in the number for time and snagged one of the women as he passed.

Thea was coming out with the dress over her arm as he wandered back into the display area.

“When we’re done here we’re supposed to call Jack. He wants to meet us for supper at Woodrow’s. You guys up for it? Or do you have plans with Pete tonight, Sam?” Daniel raised his voice enough to be heard through the partition wall.

“Pete’s back in Denver wrapping up a couple more things. He’s put his house on the market, did I tell you?” she responded from the dressing room.

“No. You guys going to live in yours? Or are you looking for a new place?”

“We’ll probably stay in mine for awhile.” Sam stepped through the double doors, shrugging into an ankle-length duster over jeans and a T-shirt. “I really don’t want a bigger house. You know how much I like housekeeping. With two of us and a bigger place . . . I don’t think so.”

“Get a housekeeper. Jack likes his. Are you going to take the dress today? Since it doesn’t need alterations?”

“I could hang it over the bedroom door and look at it for the next month, huh?”

“Or hang it in your lab and see it twenty-four/seven,” Daniel teased.

“I don’t think I want to keep it there, too risky.”

“True. Can we take it today?” Daniel asked Thea.

“Of course. Give us a few minutes to pack it up. You should take it out of the bag a few days before the wedding to let the creases hang out, Sam. It shouldn’t need pressing at all. Would you like to have a seat while you’re waiting? Or if you prefer, you’re welcome to browse some more while we put things together for you.”

”Teal’c, were we going to ask about a florist?” Sam inquired, checking off another item on her mental wedding list.

“The caterer offered the names of several florists I have already contacted. However, it you would like to price compare—”

“No!” She shuddered theatrically. “No, if it’s already covered, let’s not mess with it. So then, everything’s pretty much under control?”

“Now that you have selected a dress, we may begin the process of selecting floral arrangements that will enhance the entire affair.”

Oh, yeah, it was a really good thing Teal’c had taken to this like a duck to water.

“Then I don’t need to browse. Let’s just wait. How ‘bout if I take care of the bill while you’re packing it up?”

“Oh, I believe that’s been taken care of already.” Thea bustled away with the dress before Sam had quite caught the gist of her reply.

The associates, too, melted away like snow in hot sun.

Sam looked at Daniel suspiciously, then Teal’c. “What did she say?”

“She said, ‘I believe that has been taken care of already’.” Teal’c seated himself again in the chair he’d vacated only a short while before. “Would you care to sit down, Samantha?”

“Okay, what have you two cooked up?”

“I have cooked nothing today,” Teal’c bowed his head.

Sam was sure he was hiding a smile. “Daniel?”

“Hmmmm?” He returned her regard with such innocence she was almost convinced.

“I never even looked at the price tag, you know.”

“Good.”

“I can’t let you do this.”

“Why?”

“Because . . . I don’t know. Because – you’re not _really_ related to me.”

“Ouch, that hurts. And in every way that counts, I am. I want to do this for you. Please?”

“There’s no need—” Sam began.

“It’s already a done deal.”

She stared at her friend a moment longer, imitating the linguist’s usual awestruck pose, then snapped her teeth together with an audible click. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, and that’s exactly why I want to do this for you. Thank you for letting me.”

Sam threw her arms around him.

“We’ve got the rest of it covered as well,” Daniel whispered in her ear, winking at the Jaffa over her shoulder.

She pulled back, wide-eyed.

“We are your family, Sam; we want to do this for you.”

Sam sucked in her breath. “Daniel, we’re big people. We both have good jobs. It’s not like we need—”

”Thank you works well here, too,” he suggested dryly. “Do you have any idea how much we love you? We’d give you the moon if we could, Sam.” He hugged her tightly. “But we had to settle for Pete. And we’re okay with that - for as long as you are.”

“What’s this? You’re expecting me to get divorced?”

“Absolutely not. But if you do, we’re on your side.” Daniel stepped back, sliding his hands down to her slender wrists and clasping both her hands. “Unconditionally.”

“Even if it’s my fault?”

“Well, if you throw your dirty underwear on the floor, always miss the toilet and expect him to pick up after you, we might conditionally back you. But we’ll still be on your side.”

“God, I love you guys!” Sam planted a smacking kiss on Daniel and flopped backwards into Teal’c’s unsuspecting lap, grabbing his face and pulling him down to plant a smacker on him as well. “We still need to look for tuxes for you.”

“You know, we could probably just wear suits.” Daniel sank into the other chair, slinging one long, jean-clad leg over the arm so he faced Sam and Teal’c.

Teal’c had adjusted his lapful of Lt. Colonel and was quite comfortably supporting the armful of slightly giddy woman sprawled over him.

“Nope, if you’re gonna be my bridesmaids you have to dress alike.”

“No bouquets.”

“No bouquets,” Sam agreed. “Teal’c would look funny with a bouquet. Something in blue, I think,” she mused.

“Sam,” Daniel warned. “Let’s not.”

“You’d all look good in blue.”

“How ‘bout silver to match Jack’s hair?”

Sam chuckled. “Nope, I think a real dark blue, with a baby blue for shirts. Cassie's dress could match the shirts.”

“What’s Pete wearing?”

“Pete’s eyes are hazel. Green tuxes are out, you’ll look like leprechauns. Brown’s just plain ugly.”

“What’s wrong with black? How ‘bout black with blue shirts and ties?”

“Teal’c, I want blue.”

“Then we shall wear blue, Samantha.” Teal’c smiled down at her. “I do not believe I have ever witnessed you in this particular elevated mood without having consumed vast amounts of intoxicating beverages.”

“You’re probably right; I am kinda high right now.” Sam leaned back against his arm, grinning up at her teammate. “Recognizing how much you’re loved really revs those endorphins. Thank you – both of you – for everything. And I don’t just mean this . . .” She waved an arm to encompass the wedding paraphernalia. “I mean - everything. Did I mention I love you guys to death?”

“Once or twice,” Daniel chuckled, “but we can stand to hear it again.” He straightened, sliding both feet to the floor as Thea came around his chair.

Sam didn’t bother.

“Oh, don’t get up on my account.” Thea patted Daniel on the head as she maneuvered around him, then paused, obviously debating the wisdom of handing off the box to Colonel Carter. She turned back to Daniel, who rose. “All right, I guess you’re the chosen one after all.” She laughed, glancing at Sam as she handed the boxed dress to the gentleman without a female on his lap. “Don’t forget, take it out of the box a couple of days before the wedding, to let any wrinkles hang out.”

“Thank you, Thea.” Sam beamed up at the diminutive creature. “I probably don’t have to tell you I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this.”

“Really, Colonel?” Thea responded drolly, tapping a fuschia-tipped finger against her brightly painted lips. “I would never have known.” She laughed at Sam’s _moue_. “Actually, my dear, I think you could easily have a career in modeling if you chose.”

“Right,” Sam snorted. “Not a chance. T?” She looked up at Teal’c, blue eyes wide and shining. “Anything else we need here?”

“I do not believe so, Samantha.”

“Well, then,” she scooted off his lap with a sigh, “I guess we’re done. You have Thea’s number? In case we think of something else?”

“There’s a business card inside the box. And please don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything else we can do. It’s been a pleasure, Sam. Teal’c. Daniel.” She inclined her head briefly to each of them, smiling all the while.

“Your choices were excellent Theakerrigan. Samantha would have done justice to any of the gowns you chose, but the last was perfection itself.” Teal’c inclined his head regally. “Your time and talent are most appreciated.”

“Thank you,” Thea responded, slightly breathlessly, pansy-purple eyes staring up at Teal’c. “It’s always a pleasure to serve such lovely clients.”

“Teal’c?” Daniel inquired casually as they walked back to his car. “Any chance you’ve run into the lovely Ms. Kerrigan on Earth before?” He hit the lock button on his keychain and popped the trunk.

“None whatsoever, Danieljackson. Why do you ask?”

Teal’c opened the back seat passenger door for Sam.

Daniel stowed the dress box in the trunk and went around to the driver’s side. “Off-world then?”

Teal’c’s penetrating gaze met thoughtful blue eyes across the roof of the car. “Why would you imagine that is even possible?”

“Do you know her?” Daniel persisted.

Teal’c opened the passenger door and folded his bulk into the front seat, taking his time adjusting his seatbelt before answering. “Theakerrigan is a former resident of Chulak. Her mother worked in Apophis’ palace in a domestic capacity.”

Daniel glanced in the rearview mirror to find Sam staring at him in bewilderment.

“How did you know?” she demanded. Adding, as she thumped Teal’c from behind, “And would you have said anything if Daniel hadn’t?”

“I would not. She is not Goa’uld, nor is she Jaffa. She is merely alien. It is obvious she has made a life for herself here. Why should I betray her?”

“This isn’t about betrayal, Teal’c. Do you have any idea what a can of worms just got opened up?” Daniel pulled his cell phone back out of his pocket. “This is Dr. Jackson, put me straight through to General O’Neill and call Walter to tell him to pick up the phone.”

“Why is this different than our friend Martin? He resides here on Earth without . . .” Teal’c trailed off as Jack’s, “O’Neill,” came over the phone Daniel had punched to speaker.

“Jack? Change of plans. Don’t leave, we’re coming back to the Mountain. We’ll bring the pizza with us.”

“What’s going on? First my phone rings off the hook, then I have Walter in here telling me to answer it. I thought we were going to dinner. Why are you bringing in pizza?”

“We’re on my cell. We’ll tell you when we get there,” Daniel responded. “We should be back in less than half an hour. I’ll call ahead and we can pick up the pizza on the way.”

“Why don’t I just meet you at Woodrow’s then?”

“Shut up and listen to me, please. Don’t leave and don’t let anybody preempt us, this is very important.”

“As in saving the planet important?”

“No,” Daniel sighed in exasperation. “Not saving the planet important. But close. Wait for us.” He snapped the phone shut on Jack’s protests. “Can you call the pizza place, Teal’c, it's #4 on the speed dial.” Daniel handed the phone over to the Jaffa and buckled his seatbelt. “Tell them we’re in a hurry and to put it on my credit card.”

Sam hauled her backpack up from the floor and scrounged through it for green stuff. “I’ve got cash, Daniel.”

“They have my card number on file, this way they can just zip it through the machine and have it waiting for us.”

“You have your credit card number on file with the pizza joint? Daniel, sometimes you are incredibly naïve, but that’s just stupid.”

“Why? We’ve been trusting them with our lives since we came to work here, surely my credit card can’t be any more valuable than that.”

The little pizza place at the base of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex did a roaring business and always accommodated any member of SG-1. Originally because they were all good tippers, but over the course of almost nine years, and particularly after they’d been banned from O’Malley’s, it had become a second home to the members of Stargate Command’s premiere team, individually and collectively.

The place had begun life as a tumbledown, hole-in-the-wall joint badly in need of a new roof. But as the SGC began to get itself situated, so too, had Woodrow’s. Even NORAD had begun to take notice of the little shanty at its base when a bright new coat of paint and a brand new roof accessorized the jumbled collection of add-on dining areas.

Pizzas and cold sodas were waiting at the curb as the trio pulled in, an accommodation reserved for the elite old guard of the SGC. There was even an extra pizza thrown in for free, in honor of the General’s shiny new stars. Pepperoni with double cheese, just the way he always ordered it.

Daniel shoved the pizza boxes at Teal’c, scribbled his autograph on the credit card slip and skinned rubber as he downshifted and tore out of the parking lot.

“I do not understand your need for speed, Danieljackson. From all appearances, Theakerrigan has been established on Earth for some length of time. Her shop came highly recommended by several well-respected Denver entrepreneurs. I do not believe she harbors any malevolence toward your world. I suspect she is as much a refugee as I.”

“Do you think she recognized you, Teal’c?” Sam asked, leaning forward between the bucket seats. “Did you know each other well enough she’ll figure it out, too?”

“Theakerrigan is younger than I by several decades. I knew her only as a child and I remember her only because, like Shau’nac, she was destined for the temple. Perhaps like your Moses in the Tau’ri bible, she was hidden away in time to save her. She was a particularly engaging child.”

“I can see that,” Daniel mused. “So then you think she’s been here most of her life?” he inquired, flashing his pass out the window as he drove through NORAD parking into the SGC lot.

“It is possible, though I do not believe the secret of Earth was common knowledge amongst the inhabitants of the galaxy until you opened your Stargate, Danieljackson.” Teal’c handed off the pizzas to Sam when she opened his door, displaying his usual grimace of displeasure over Daniel’s small, ergonomic vehicle - one turned-down corner of the mobile mouth - as he folded in half to get out.

Daniel took the pizzas from Sam as she signed them all into the Mountain and headed for the elevator. “Hey, Harold, call General O’Neill, will you, and tell him we’re headed for my office. We’ll meet him there.”

“Sure thing, Dr. Jackson.”

“Daniel. It’s just Daniel. How many times do I have to tell you it’s just Daniel.”

“Yes, sir, Dr. Jackson. It’s Daniel, sir.”

“Give it a rest, Daniel,” Sam advised, joining them on the elevator. “The General follows around behind you telling everybody to call you Dr. Jackson. You’re just confusing them.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Daniel punched the button for Level 10 and the express button. “Hey, we got hot pizza here,” he defended, grinning at his teammates. “Besides, we don’t know, we might be under attack.”

“Nice try, troublemaker. We’d have been locked out of the base if we were under attack.” Sam led the way off and across the corridor to the second set of elevators, punching the button for 18 as they boarded, and again hitting the express button. “I’m gonna say you did it if we get yelled at.”

Daniel shrugged. “We’re SG-1, what kind of trouble are we gonna get into?” The words were barely out of his mouth when the klaxons blared, the sound carrying even between floors.

Teal’c passed the six-pack of Mountain Dew to his other hand and glanced at his watch. “It is likely SG-13 returning as scheduled.”

“That General O’Neill runs a tight ship,” Dr. Jackson remarked conversationally. “Even keeps his SG teams on schedule. Let’s all remember to add that to our reports when the Joint Commission hits us up again for evaluations of his command.”

“I still can’t believe they actually asked us to do that,” Sam commented, watching the numbers slide up as the elevator slid down.

“Why not? After Jack himself, we’re usually his worst critics.”

“True enough. But did they really expect us to deliver unbiased opinions?”

Daniel shrugged. “Probably not, but I think they did trust us to be honest.”

“Were you?” Sam prodded.

“Completely,” Daniel replied, poker-faced. “There was no need to lie. Jack dictated my entire report. All I did was type it and sign my name.”

“He did not!” Sam exclaimed. “You’re kidding! Right?”

Teal’c took the pizzas as Daniel began searching his pockets for his key card.

"Does Jack follow me around telling people to call me Dr. Jackson?"

" _Touché_ ," Sam retorted, laughing as the door opened.

“Took ya long enough,” General O’Neill tossed the stones he’d been juggling back on top of the pile of papers adorning half the length of the long countertop.

Daniel threw himself at the counter, barely snatching up a small 14th century Ming vase before one of the rocks, rolling down the hill of paperwork in slow motion, smashed into it.

“Shouldn’t leave fragile stuff like that lying around on top of piles of paper, now, should you?” Jack deftly caught a 3rd millennium Jomon figurine and replaced it, upright, in the middle of the counter, well beyond the stack of papers.

“One of these days I’m going to have a heart attack when you do that.” Daniel slumped against the counter, still cradling the vase.

“Do what?”

“Knock things around in here!” Dr. Jackson snarled, carefully settling the Ming well beyond Jack’s arm length. “Please, just keep your hands in your pockets when you come in here!”

“Hey, I didn’t touch either one of those things!”

“The temperature of our sustenance is plummeting while the two of you argue apropos an occasion that has yet to take place.” Teal’c carefully cleared a space on Daniel’s desk to deposit the pizza boxes and soda.

Sam liberated a stack of paper plates from beneath a copy of Budge shoved back in the corner of the closet and handed them out.

“So what happened while you were out wedding gown shopping that necessitated dragging me out of my supervisory meeting with the Archive Department? Thank you, by the way.” General O’Neill hauled up a rolling chair with a foot as he flipped open the tops of the pizza boxes. “Sweet. Extra pepperoni and cheese.”

“On the house, in honor of your not-so-recent promotion, sir,” Sam informed him, plopping several pieces of Daniel’s pineapple and sausage on her plate. “We ran across an acquaintance of Teal’c’s from Chulak in the little shop where I bought my gown.”

“Really?” Jack snagged a soda as he sank down in the chair and scooted back from the desk to make way for Teal’c and Daniel. “From Chulak? Old or new?”

“Her mother worked in Apophis’ palace, her father was a Jaffa under my command.”

“You didn’t tell us that,” Sam accused, around a mouthful of pizza. “Sorry,” she added, when she could speak again without spewing sauce and cheese.

“Am I the only one who thinks this is weird?”

“Oh, how quickly you forget, Dr. Jackson.”

“Yeah, right. Like getting knocked over the head and drugged is something I’m anxious to remember on a daily basis. So I guess the logical conclusion then would be that _Mork & Mindy_ was at least as real as _Wormhole Xtreme_ , right? Maybe _Alf_ , too? And _My Favorite Martian_.”

“TV Land should have its FCC license revoked,” Jack mumbled. “Yeah, Daniel, I’d put them right up there with _Mr. Ed_ and _I Dream of Jeannie_.”

“Yes, and anybody in their right mind would put _Wormhole Xtreme_ in the same category.” Daniel shook his head. “Fine. I withdraw my observation.”

“What’s your point?”

“You’re not at all concerned we may have thousands of aliens living on Earth?” He could not, however, leave it alone. Watching the exchange between Thea and Teal’c, feeling the recognition flow between them, had startled him.

“So what if we do? If they’re responsible, contributing citizens – with green cards – who cares?”

Carter snorted. “Green cards, sir?”

Jack shrugged. “Give it a rest, Dr. Jackson. If – by some crazy chance – your theory is right and there are thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of aliens living on Earth – so what? If they haven’t instigated a revolution to take back the Stargate in the last nine years, it’s unlikely they’re going to now, don’t ya think?”

“While I am of a similar opinion on the issue of aliens residing here on Earth, do not underestimate Danieljackson’s theory. He has often been proven correct in his most extreme conjectures. It is conceivable there are many more aliens inhabiting Earth identities than we are aware. The Asgard have clearly been keeping an eye on this planet, perhaps for eons. It is imminently possible others knew of it as well and kept it a secret as a last refuge from the Goa’uld.”

“Fine, as long as they keep their noses clean and remain upstanding citizens, I have no problem with them living here. Is that it? That’s all this big emergency was about?” General O’Neill folded his paper plate into an airplane and pitched it toward the trashcan. “No loft,” he lamented.

“Too much wax, sir,” Carter empathized, bending to pick up the plate that had landed at her feet.

“So, anything else exciting happen while you were out playing without me? You bought a gown, Carter? Gonna model it for us?”

“Already did, sir. Daniel and Teal’c approved it.”

“It’s not too low-cut, not too clingy, not too revealing, Pop.” Daniel, sitting on the side of his desk, caught the plate Sam pitched at him and dumped it in the trashcan between his feet. “You know we’d never let her buy something you wouldn’t approve of. Are you leaving already? Is there any more pizza?”

“There is no remaining sausage and pineapple, what is your next choice?”

“Give me some of Jack’s, I guess. Thanks,” Daniel added, when the weight of the pizza landed on the plate. An authoritative hand snatched at his wrist as he peeled off the first pepperoni.

“Aht! Don’t you dare throw those away!” Jack snatched the dangling pepperoni from between the archeologist’s fingers.

“Napkin, sir?” Carter held one out.

“No, thanks.” O’Neill popped the pieces like bait worms. “Yes, I’m leaving already. You interrupted an important budget meeting. Let me know if anything interesting develops with the alien. Eat the other kind and leave my pepperoni alone.”

“I like green peppers less than I like pepperoni.”

“So pick it off. Does this mean we’re not going to dinner tonight?”

“We just ate pizza.”

“That was just a snack. I’ve got another two hours before I can blow this joint. I’ll be ready to eat by then,” the General suggested wistfully.

“Told you so,” Daniel beamed at Sam. “Jack’s still part of SG-1. Not only that, he misses us.”

Sam laughed lightly. “I don’t have any other plans for this evening. And I’m certain I can find something to do for a couple of hours.”

“I could be here another six or eight,” Daniel sighed.

“You’re not coming back here after dinner tonight. I’m gonna tell the SF’s not to let you in if you do.”

“Jack.”

”Daniel.”

“You wouldn’t.”

General O’Neill took two steps backwards, lifted the phone receiver and dialed a number. “Security, make a big red note on the evening clipboard, Dr. Jackson is not to be allowed back into the Mountain before 8:00 a.m. tomorrow morning . . . Yes, I am aware he’s been here the last three nights in a row . . . Thank you.”

Sam nearly spewed her mouthful of soda all over the mountain of papers she’d shoved aside to make room for her plate on the counter.

“We’re under new management; you’re not pulling that crap anymore, Daniel, unless it’s an emergency.”

“Have I ever told you how much it pisses me off when you do things for my own good?”

“D’oh!” Jack just grinned. “Why do you think I do it? See you guys in a couple of hours.”

* * *

Sam lifted her hand from her father’s sleeve and wiped it on the tiny handkerchief tucked at the base of her bouquet - a last minute accessory from Teal’c - then shifted the flower-adorned fan to her other hand and blotted the other sweaty palm as they stood waiting in the narthex in front of the closed doors of the sanctuary.

Cassie had informed them, half an hour ago, that she was going to wait in the wardroom with Pete's attendents. Daniel had subsequently informed the remainder of the wedding party said young lady had designs on Pete's youngest brother.

Her attendants had escorted her up from the basement all-purpose room they’d turned into a staging area, to the small lobby of the base chapel. She’d felt secure with her hand tucked into Teal’c’s elbow, his large fingers squeezing hers briefly as he handed her solemnly over to her father.

General O’Neill, looking surprisingly comfortable, not to mention gorgeous, in a tux, had hugged her hard, but said nothing, before stepping back to make way for her train-bearer.

On rising from arranging the gown, Daniel had kissed her lightly, and held her tight for a moment as he'd murmured in her ear, “I hope this day will be everything you’ve dreamed of, Sam, and more."

Had that been just a minute ago? Or an hour?

No, an hour ago she’d been getting dressed. She’d been primly attired in her foundation garments when Teal’c had brought in the dress and helped her into it. Sam had been keenly aware he’d probably seen her in the altogether more times than Pete.

Who’d have imagined the arms that had cradled and shielded her more than once returning through the Stargate injured, could lift the hat with such grace? The massive hands settle it with such finesse? And those long fingers manage the march of the tiny pearl soldiers closing the back of her dress with such exquisite gentleness?

Cassie, perched on a nearby stool, had watched these preceedings with a faint smile. She'd laughingly reminded them of her first encounter with the taciturn Jaffa and the picture she'd drawn of him smiling in an effort to coax her out of hiding. A picture that still held pride of place on Sam's refrigerator door.

Now, standing at the back of the church with just her dad and the closed double doors in front of them, nerves were starting to prickle.

Sam fingered the exquisite, perfectly matched choker of pearls Teal’c had fastened in his last act as clothier. They’d been a gift from Pete the night before, when he picked her up from a day at the spa, courtesy of her father, arranged by Teal’c. Her fiancé had complained they’d left him nothing to do for her besides chauffeur, then, like a magician, conjured the box out of empty air and laid it in her lap.

She took a deep breath and slipped her hand back under her father’s elbow.

Jacob’s head dipped slightly and when he raised it again, his voice resonated with Selmak’s overtones. “I’m snatching this moment from your father, Samantha, because it is unlikely I will be able to do so the rest of day. I want to tell you, in all my years, I have never seen a more beautiful bride. I also want you to know, your father is near to bursting with pride over you. So if it should happen that I am suddenly flopping around on the floor looking for another host, you will understand why.”

Humor from Selmak? Sam gawked, then snickered as her shimmering nerves settled. “Oh god, I hope not! And thank you, Selmak.”

“You know I’d make any sacrifice for you, my girl, just as your father would.” Selmak urged his host forward and touched his lips to a glowing cheek. “I love you, too, you know.”

Sam was smiling widely as her father adjusted his tux jacket with a wink. “Same here, kiddo. Are we ready to do this?” Jacob patted the hand tucked under his left elbow.

“I’m ready.”

The clarion notes of a solo trumpet drenched the still air and on cue, the wide double doors swung inward.

Jacob took two steps forward and stopped, framing them in the doorway as flashes ignited all over the congregation.

It was a moment out of time. Snapshots, both visual and audible - like a series of photos drying on a darkroom line - superimposed themselves on Sam’s vision.

The stunning bouquet of hothouse orchids cascading over the top and sides of a silk-draped pillar - exotic, like Janet; the stumbling hitch of Pete’s heart flickering briefly across his face as she appeared in the open doors; the nearly imperceptible flash of green palmed between the General and Daniel; Teal’c’s unsmiling face and suspiciously bright eyes; the collective sigh of the congregation as they turned en masse to see the bride.

Indestructible Kodak moments indelibly archived in her memory cache.

The sustained note of the trumpet fanfare fell away, creating a moment of silence so profound it glistened with perfection. The beauty burst into the crystal notes of Trumpet Voluntary, showering the hushed congregation with awe as they rose deferentially.

Jacob moved forward and Sam’s slipper-shod feet moved her forward with him. Every eye followed her progress down the length of the football-field-long aisle – or so it felt – though in reality it was less than the distance between the window wall of the embarkation room and the Stargate.

Pete’s attendants, his dad and two brothers, were grinning like Cheshire cats. His fourth attendent, a fellow police officer from his Denver precinct, was staring out over the audience as though trying to match up faces with wanted posters.

Pete was coming down the center steps to meet her. To shake her father’s hand and take his place at her side. His fingers were shaking as he raised her hand to his lips before tendering his elbow and wrapping those shaking fingers over hers as she took his arm.

“I love you, lady,” he murmured. “You make me weak in the knees in BDUs, but this—” he sucked in his breath. “This dress - makes my heart go pitter patter.”

On the chancel dais the base chaplain stepped forward. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

“We do,” Jacob and the remainder of SG-1 recited in unison.

Gentle, audible amusement swept the congregation.

Pete just grinned. He hadn’t expected the traditional question at all, but the answer was no surprise. He handed her up the steps, gathering up the train of her gown and arranging it again before stepping up to face her so they were in profile to the audience.

“Beautiful,” he said again, taking her bouquet to hand to Cassie so he could hold both her hands.

“Sam and Pete have asked that before we begin, we pause to share a moment of remembrance, as family and friends, in memory of those near and dear who are not here this afternoon,” Chaplain Winters informed the congregation. “I’ve asked Sam’s permission to read her tribute to the two people she’s missing most today. You’re welcome to turn your programs over and follow along if you’d like.”

Sam grimaced slightly. She was a writer of reports, of theoretical treatises and hypothetical conjecture. She dealt in facts and figures, probabilities and if/thans; emotional paradigms were right up there with girly-girl things like choosing wedding gowns and flowers. She’d never imagined, the day she’d gone down to Daniel’s office to beg for help, that a couple of paragraphs would stir such grief and at the same time bring such healing.

She raised her gaze to Pete and found him smiling tenderly. He understood the labor pains she’d endured trying to birth these few lines. His fingers gripped hers strongly, reassuringly.

Chaplain Winters’ resonant voice carried easily, filling the small, sacred space with his vivid interpretation of Sam’s words. “No one can fill a mother’s shoes on a day like today; no one can bestow advice or offer counsel like a mother on this day. No one can fill the empty space of her absence on a day like today. Mom, I miss you and wish you were here, standing with Dad, but your love has encompassed me through every rite of passage and I know in my heart that you are here in all the ways that count, just as you have always been here for me when I needed you most. Love transcends every tragedy, transforms every sorrow and seeds the most perfect relationships. I learned that from you and I’m holding that thought close today, even as I miss you by my side.”

“Janet, my dearest friend, of the all the things I miss about you not being here, the thing I miss the most is your impudence. I’ll miss the light of your smile and your audacious wink when Pete slides the ring on my finger. I’ll miss your wicked chuckle when I stumble over my vows in my nervousness. And I’ll miss that risqué repertoire you saved for very special wedding receptions. Although that chapter of our lives closed without resolution, I know in my heart even though you are not standing beside me, your presence here in this place is a given, that your joy in the moment is as great as mine. But I miss you, especially today.”

Chaplain Winters paused briefly, glancing first at the bridal pair, then out over the audience.

Sam smiled at Pete, remembering turning from collecting her copy off the printer. Daniel had wordlessly opened his arms as grief, fresh and frighteningly raw, had poured out of Sam. No military stoicism had been expected or allowed and the sluice would not be closed again. He'd refused to let her go when she’d first drawn back, more than a little embarrassed and confused.

Dr. Jackson, the consummate observer, had coaxed the hidden heartache from its camouflaged blind just by helping her find words to share the reawakened ache that on this day of all days, two of the most important people in her life would not be here to share it with her.

“Mom - Janet – I love you both,” Winters paused again, finishing quietly, “Sam.”

A shaft of sunlight speared the rose window behind the chancel. The colored glass splintered and refracted the rays, showering the bridal party with sundrops of confetti. It sprayed out over the congregation, dancing with joyous abandon among the guests, splashing a face with vivid sunshiny yellow, painting a shoulder the color of wild roses, briefly tinting the bald head of General Hammond a striking lilac.

“Sam?" Cassie barely breathed her name, but she heard it and turned her head. “I think my mom has just offered her blessing on your union.”

The golden shaft bent to encompass the pillar of hothouse orchids in a shimmering haze, the rosebuds dangling from multilength gold ribbons on Sam’s bouquet, still in Cassie's hands, began to sway as though plucked by a breeze and Cassie's upswept hair tumbled down in a mass of wavy curls. Janet had always liked it best down.

Sam smiled widely. Pete just shook his head and returned her smile with an ear-to-ear grin. “You people are something else,” he whispered.

Chaplain Winters would have given his right arm to know what they really did under NORAD. The rumors usually surrounding any top-secret project were curiously lacking regarding the Cheyenne Mountain facility. In a world of anomalies, that was extremely abnormal.

The groom leaned slightly toward him and murmured good-naturedly, “Hey, I have to get through this part before I can get to the good stuff tonight, so can we get on with this already?”

Right, he had a wedding to perform. As far as he knew, twinkling lights and non-existent angel choirs had never come under military purview; whatever was happening in his sanctuary had nothing to do with Cheyenne Mountain or deep space telemetry.

Winters blinked and shook his head slightly. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the dancing rosebuds and glowing pillar. “We’ve gathered here this afternoon to join Sam and Pete in an age-old celebration of coming together, of announcing intentions to form a more perfect union, where the two shall become one, where joys will be doubled and sorrows halved because you no longer celebrate separately, or sorrow singly.”

The words were unimportant, Teal’c tuned out the minister. What mattered was the joy radiating from Samantha’s face, the palpable air of pride O’Neill was trying to contain and Danieljackson’s boundless pleasure in their friend’s good fortune. That Dr. Frasier should choose to reveal her presence at this momentous occasion was the final blessing Teal’c sought.

Perfection would be hard to surpass. He basked in the glow of the moment, full lips twitching into a rare smile as he watched the drama unfold.

He had been vastly intrigued when Danieljackson had dragged a protesting Colonelcarter into his quarters and informed him said Colonelcarter needed someone to help plan a wedding. He had been to a couple of SGC weddings and had thought them insipid affairs; uninspired, tame, and totally lacking in imagination. So when Danieljackson had tossed out the all important, “Will you help her?” he’d immediately accepted the challenge.

Planning – whatever the battle – required certain steps. He had thoroughly researched the given subject within a matter of hours, met Colonelcarter and Danieljackson, along with O’Neill, and disclosed his strategy over breakfast.

O’Neill had ineffectually hidden his grin in his coffee cup, Danieljackson hadn’t bothered to try to hide his, and Samanthacarter had just stared at him in awe.

They’d set up a command station in Colonelcarter’s lab, with Teal’c’s laptop in pride of place. Ten years of close friendship and camaraderie had peeled back the layers of the woman for whom he was planning a wedding, he had not erred once in the suggestions he’d laid out for her.

For the ceremony itself, he had enlisted Danieljackson’s aid in creating a unique service that embodied a plethora of time-honored binding traditions from both Earth and alien cultures.

O’Neill’s initial covert derision had quickly given way to rueful endorsement, while Danieljackson had sat by with smug satisfaction. Nothing escaped the eagle-eyed Jaffa, he’d seen the money change hands, too, and had a bet with himself that Danieljackson had collected on a long-overdue wager regarding the ability of a certain warrior in the role of wedding planner. O’Neill should have paid up long before. Teal’c never set out to do anything he didn’t plan to finish – and with finesse.

Pete Shanahan was carefully lifting and rolling back the fingertip veil that fountained from the back of Colonelcarter’s chapeau, fitting his lips snugly to hers, obviously thoroughly enjoying a Big Red moment.

The police officer came up for air and was promptly reengaged by Colonelcarter to complete what he’d started.

“Ladies and gentleman, family, friends, auspicious visitors, may I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Pete and Samantha Shanahan!”

In the small space the audience applause reverberated inside her head as Sam turned with Pete and moved to hug each of their wedding party participants.

General O’Neill graciously condescended to allow Pete to hug him as well and took the opportunity to whisper darkly, “If you hurt her, I’ll hunt you down and tear you apart limb from limb.”

Momentarily nonplused, Shanahan gaped, then grinned. “Naturally, sir. I would expect nothing less from her family.”

“Just so we understand each other,” O’Neill added, passing the groom off to Daniel as Carter hugged the stuffing out of her wedding planner.

 

_Epilogue_

A thin crescent moon hung from a silver thread too high in the sky for its luminescence to be of practical use, not that it mattered. The torch-lit scene needed no further enhancement.

The reception was taking place on the large backyard deck and patio of their new home. Sam had felt a bit like the little girl in _Miracle on 34th Street_ , staring, from the passenger seat, at the house of her dreams. Pete had initially taken her stunned silence as dislike – sometimes it caught her off guard that he knew her so well, yet, in some ways, not at all. She’d turned, caught his face between her hands and kissed the bejeezus out of him before throwing open the door and running madly around the house. He’d been waiting with the front door standing open when she’d made the circuit.

Sam sipped her champagne and watched Teal’c slow dancing with his date, the dress shop owner. Thea’s wedding attire appeared to consist entirely of various multihued scarves variously draped, tied, or hung from her diminutive person.

Fifteen feet away, Daniel and the General were perched on the edge of the deck sharing a bottle of champagne, and Sam was pretty certain O’Neill was attempting to recoup his earlier losses by trying to entice Daniel to bet on which scarf the lovely alien would lose first.

She still didn’t know exactly what they’d been betting on in church, but she had a pretty good idea it had something to do with Daniel’s belief in the Jaffa’s preternatural instincts regarding weddings. It was never wise to bet against Daniel. He rarely lost a wager of any kind.

At the other end of the patio, Cassie's plan was obviously progressing satisfactorily. She'd ditched her high-heeled sandals that made her taller than Pete's brother Michael and was wrapped around him like icing on a wedding cake. Of course, Michael hadn't been particularly slow on the uptake. Sam wondered if either of them were aware Jack, Daniel and Teal'c were all keeping an eye on where their hands were.

“Happy?” Pete slipped his arms around her from behind.

“Mmmmm,” Sam purred. “Very. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Oh, a dozen things, but for now, for this.”

“This?” Pete snugged his arms tighter as she arched against him. “This, lady, is my pleasure.”

“Oh, that too, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.” Sam lifted a languid hand to encompass the throng of people dancing or standing around in groups chatting amid the riotous blooms spilling out of her container gardens. “For amiably agreeing to a wedding in the first place, but also for never once rolling your eyes while this whole shebang was in the planning stages. I knew you were a nice guy, Shanahan, but you’re really right up there in the stand-out few, you know? It’s no wonder I fell truly, madly, deeply . . .” she rose on tiptoe and pirouetted inside the support of Pete’s hands . . . “in love . . .”

Pete went very still as Sam’s hands practiced a few glissades as yet unheard of in the world of ballet.

“. . . with you,” she murmured throatily, ending his torment with a sizzling, sexy kiss that brought everything to attention that wasn’t already front and center.

“You’re welcome. So when are we going to get to the good part?”

“We didn’t just?” Sam drew back, a well-feigned look of surprise criminally plastered on her flushed face.

Pete only laughed and, drawing the hand he held up over her head, twirled her in place again, one hand supporting her waist. “Let’s go say our goodbyes. We’ve got places to go, things to do . . .” He pressed against her backside, giving her a well-deserved opportunity to encounter what she’d done to him. “Yes,” he lowered his voice. “Lots of things to do yet tonight. I really think we should take our leave.”

“We still have guests,” Sam pointed out, though not with any particular conviction.

“Dr. Jackson has already assured me he will stay until the bitter end and get the cleaning crew in here tomorrow.”

“How sweet.”

“Sweet, charming, all around nice guy, really likeable. I’m not surprised your boss fell for him.”

Sam’s jaw dropped.

“And they’ll have the house all to themselves tonight. Let’s go so they can start clearing out the guests and really have it to themselves.”

“You knew? You know? No one knows about them!”

Pete kissed his new wife soundly and chuckled. “Come on, your bags are in the car already, let’s sneak away before anyone notices, then when they find we’re gone, Daniel and the General won’t have to try too hard to start the exodus.”

“I love you, Detective Shanahan.”

“I love you, too, even though you’re more girly-girl than I bargained for, Colonel Doctor Carter.”

Across the crowd, Teal’c broke off his conversation with Ms. Thea Kerrigan, formerly of the planet Chulak, and glanced toward the bridal pair.

Sam lifted her champagne glass high in a silent toast. To weddings, she directed at the bald head shimmering in the torchlight, and the best Wedding Planner in the universe.

Teal’c returned his customary response.

 

~*~

  
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